Currently Browsing: Abusive Boyfriend
Jul 6, 2009
To the man who let her go:
You don’t know me. To be perfectly honest, I don’t know you either, but I know of you. I also know your type. I also know and love someone you once claimed to love too. I suppose we have that in common, but that’s where the sameness ends. The biggest difference between us: I am smart enough to see that which was right in front of you and you neglected and abused.
How you could you look into her eyes and not see the love shining back at you? How could you look at that beautiful, soft face and not feel the desire to want to hold her, love her, touch her?
I don’t understand why you kept her at arm’s length. I don’t understand how you missed all the beauty both inside and outside of and around her.
She healed you inside. I know you felt it. I know you felt her healing touch, her love. I know you craved that from her. I crave it too, but I appreciate it, nurture it, treat it like the precious thing it is. (more…)
Jun 2, 2009
When you got off work that night, I expected you to come home, like you always did.
But you didn’t.
Three days later, me frantic with worry and having called all your friends and family, you finally called me. I’ll never forget those words, “I can’t do this anymore.”
Did you take that line from one of the cheesy nighttime soap opera type dramas you used to watch all night long instead of talking to me? Maybe you heard that line on one of the sim-type video games you played all day long instead of being a part of the household, a part of the family. (more…)
May 28, 2009
I have so much to say so please bear with me. It’s strange how life can twist and turn and your life-long fantasy of how things should be just drifts away with the next breeze that blows by.
I wanted the perfect life for you. I wanted to be able to give you everything and anything you wanted. To say that I have always wanted you would be an understatement. I have longed for a child and was blessed to find out that you were going to grace my life in a short nine months.
Your father and I were together since I was 15 years old. Everyone warned me that, although he might be fun to date, he would never provide me with security and was not “marriage material”. I didn’t listen. I wanted to believe he would change and that my presence in his life would make him want to be a better man.
We married and my life became clear. My life would consist of never having a home of my own and working long hours just to support my husband, who would not even attempt to leave the house or his video games. We lived with my mother and I adjusted to his ways. He was an adult who never grew up. (more…)
Apr 22, 2009
When you left, I wanted to be angry. I couldn’t find it in me, but I wanted to be angry. Sometimes, in anger, you find strength and I desperately needed strength. But I couldn’t get angry. The only thing I felt was sadness. Overwhelming sadness.
You left me for someone else. You lied about it, but I knew the truth. I had always known the truth, all along, but knowing and wanting to see or act on the truth are different things. I was miserable, but somehow, I was comfortable in my misery. It was familiar. It was… safe?
As I knew would happen, you left… and that’s when I wanted to be angry. Eventually, a few months later, the anger did hit me, and the more I became angry, the more I learned about the truth of your deception… oh, how many months I played a fool. (more…)
Mar 4, 2009
When I was a child of fifteen years old, you were a worldly man of twenty. To me, you were intrigue and danger–all the things my parents would hate. At the time, I was motivated only by my need to be loved, living in a family where love played second to the almighty dollar, and perhaps getting back at my parents. I guess that’s a typical teen rebellion, but I took it a step further than most.
I thought you loved me. When you touched my fifteen-year-old virgin body, I felt alive in a way I had never experienced in my sheltered existence, and like a drug, I was hooked, addicted, unable to refuse.
So when things became unbearable at home, you offered me a place to run, and I took you up on that offer. Little did I know once I was ‘yours’ that you would treat me like you owned me. There was no love in your touch any longer. Looking back, I wonder if there ever was. I think maybe I only felt what I wanted to feel, thinking the grass would be greener anywhere other than my loveless parents’ home. (more…)